Ways of the World
by GGDeimos
Summary: The ways of the world are vast, and they often vary from person to person. A collection of one-shots about the world in which some of our favorite characters inhabit. Ch. 4: Misty's got the sydrome that everyone wants- she's discovered Ash Ketchum.
1. Coffee

Maylene sighed. Another day, another challenger, another win for her gym. She watched as her ten year-old opponent crumpled to the ground in defeat, clutching her unconscious Prinplup in her arms.

The pink-haired gym leader rubbed her temples and shut her eyes. She had been dealt pretty much the same cards as yesterday. In fact, she had beaten all of her challengers for the past thirteen days with only one member of her team, her Machoke. Turning away from the battlefield, Maylene grabbed her towel and attempted to place it around her neck, but realized that she hadn't even broken a sweat.

She hated to admit it, but she knew she was becoming almost as apathetic as Volkner towards battling. As Maylene offered meaningless words of comfort to her gym challenger, she remembered that it was for her weekly meeting at the Solaceon café.

Sometimes, running around barefoot with only a tight, sleeveless shirt and baggy pants grew old. Especially on freezing, frigid winter days like this. Maylene cursed her choice of clothing as she hurriedly rushed into the tiny café located just outside of Solaceon Town to meet her best friend, Candice. She knew she should be used to the weather by now, as she did this all the time in Candice's snow-covered hometown.

And she knew that she should probably buy shoes, if only for times like this.

Even though the trek from Veilstone City to Solaceon Town wasn't very far, it still took all the energy out of the gym leader. Bursting into the heated café with a sigh of relief, Maylene spotted her fellow gym leader in their usual booth. Her annual weekly meetings with Candice were now the only reason she got out of bed in the mornings, and the welcoming grin on Candice's face made the corners of Maylene's mouth turn up.

"You're late," Candice mused.

Maylene frowned. She looked at the café clock hanging on the wall opposite their table. "No, I'm not," she said, puzzled.

Candice tucked a brown braid behind her ear. "The Maylene I know always meets me at two thirty-one, not two thirty-nine." She looked questioningly at her friend.

Maylene shrugged. "Battle. Ran over time." A white lie. Machoke had defeated a Staravia, an Abra, and a Prinplup in exactly seven minutes. "Sorry." She sipped her coffee Candice had already ordered for her, a medium Caramel Macchiato with non-fat milk and sugar-free syrup. Maylene's favorite.

Pursing her lips, Candice didn't seem to buy it. "Right… just like last week?"

"Mmhmmm."

"Are you avoiding me?"

Setting her coffee down, Maylene, confused, asked, "What the- no! Why would you ask that?"

"Because for the past two weeks, you've been five to ten minutes late every time we meet here."

"Well, if you chose a closer coffee shop to where I live," Maylene growled, "maybe I'd get here sooner. And why do you care so much? We meet at two thirty every Wednesday afternoon. I'm sorry I got here nine minutes late! I didn't think you would be upset!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. How was your battle?" Candice asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

"Fine."

"Can I have more than a one-word answer, please?"

Maylene hated when Candice played these games with her. "It was okay. Nothing special. I won. For the sixteenth time in a row." She spoke the last line under her breath.

But Candice caught it. "You've won sixteen times in a row? That's amazing! I had a seven win streak, but yesterday I lost to a challenger… but I was okay with it." She traced a pattern on the table.

Maylene didn't say anything.

Candice looked up at her. "When are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" She asked. "You've been like this for over two weeks now." She stared at Maylene questioningly.

Maylene answered, "Nothing's wrong." She looked down at the table.

Narrowing her eyes, Candice said, "Stop lying, Maylene. We're friends, and I wanna know what's up with the way you've been acting lately." She paused, and then asked, "Is it Roark?"

Blushing, Maylene answered, "No, it's not Roark." She knew Candice deserved an honest answer, but truthfully, even the pink-haired gym leader had no idea what was wrong with herself. She sighed and rubbed her hands together. "It's just…" she struggled for the right words. "I—I can't… I'm tired of battling."

Candice choked on her latte. Sputtering, she managed to get out, "What? You're pulling a Volkner on me? What the heck, Maylene?"

Maylene sighed heavily and shut her eyes. She could feel a headache coming on, but she didn't know if it came from Candice's frantic murmuring or the harsh sound of the coffee grinder. She didn't want to have this conversation with her friend if she could help it.

"I've got to go, okay? I'll see you next week." Maylene tried to stand and walk away, but Candice said firmly, "No. You're not leaving until you tell me why you feel like this."

Quietly, Maylene muttered, "I just don't know, Candice, okay? This sounds stupid but, I just feel…" She paused. "I'm getting bored because I win too much."

Candice's petite mouth dropped open. "You're getting bored because you win too much?" She repeated. Then she scowled. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life, if not worst. How can you get bored with being a gym leader?"

Shrugging, Maylene whispered, "I don't know… I'm just tired of it."

Candice frowned. "You're becoming like Volkner." She narrowed her eyes at her fellow gym leader.

Shocked, Maylene exclaimed, "No I'm not! How could you say that?"

"You must be bi-polar, then, because just a moment ago you were telling me how you were _tired_ of battling! And guess who that reminds me of? Volkner. You sound exactly like him, and you can't deny it!" Candice hissed in anger.

"I—" Maylene started, then broke off. Candice was right. She was becoming like Volkner, apathetic towards battling and towards life in general. Maylene put her hand on her forehead and sighed, "I know."

Candice didn't say anything. She stared at Maylene. Finally, she couldn't stand the silence. "This is a problem you have to fix yourself. Either you quit wallowing in self-pity, or you go down a different path than Volkner. And as a friend, I suggest you pick the latter since I will _not_ let you become like him." She stood up. "And it's your turn to pay the tab today."

Maylene watched as Candice wrapped her sweater around her waist and walked out of the café without a wave or a goodbye. She smiled for the first time in two weeks, since it was so typical of her friend to leave her with the bill.

Upon returning to Veilstone City, Maylene was greeted by a challenger in the gym. The Fighting-type gym leader agreed to battle, and the battle commenced.

And Maylene lost.

As she awarded the Cobble Badge to her opponent, Maylene smiled again. She had never thought she would be happy to see her sixteen win streak go down in flames, but this loss gave her something to strive for- a seventeen win streak.

She vowed never to become like Volkner. As long as Maylene lived, she was determined that her fire for battle would live on.

And Candice would surely have to pay the tab next week.

**MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC**

**Hey everyone! If you would like to suggest a one-shot idea for WOTW, please submit it in a review! I'm open to all ideas and criticism (but no flames). Hope you enjoyed!**

**-GGDeimos**


	2. Raspberries with a Hint of Lavender

**VolknerxGardenia**

_Bzzzz… bzzzz… _

Volkner groaned and set down his oversized cable cutters that he held in his hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, which was currently distracting him from the town's central solar panel he needed to be fixing. The Sunnyshore City gym leader looked at the caller ID.

_Gardenia._

Volkner flipped open his phone. "Yeah?" He answered.

"Oh, hey, Volkner, are you busy?" Asked the chipper voice on the other end of the line which could only belong to Gardenia.

"Uh… Well, yes. Sort of," Volkner managed to get out. He ran a hand through his blond hair. "Do you need anything?"

"Mmhmm. Yeah, see, my ceiling fan stopped working last night, and it's super hot out here in Eterna… I was wondering if maybe you could come out and fix it for me."

Volkner cringed. It was a long drive out to Eterna City from Sunnyshore, and it was already nearing seven o'clock at night. "Oh… did you try calling a repair man?"

He could hear Gardenia's plaintive sigh on the other end of the line. "Please, Volkner. It's Sunday. Nobody works on Sunday. Except for you," she added.

_Sunday… right…_ Volkner knew he couldn't get out of this one. "Okay, I'll be there in about an hour."

"Great! I'll see you there!"

Volkner snapped his cell shut and stared at the solar panel. _It can wait, I guess,_ he thought.

The drive to Eterna City wasn't so bad since Volkner busied himself with overdue calls to his family back home in Solaceon Town. He even spoke to his little sister, whom he had not seen in quite some time. When Volkner told her he was on his way to repair something for a friend, she bombarded him with questions.

"Is it a girl?"

"Yes."

"Is she pretty?"

Volkner hesitated. "Sure." He fingered the dial on the car's stereo.

"Do you like her?"

Sighing, Volkner answered, "Stacy, if you mean 'like her' as a friend, then yeah."

"But do you _like _her, like her?"

Volkner had never been so relieved to pull into Gardenia's driveway. "Gotta go, Stace." He snapped the phone shut before his little sister could say goodbye, and he reminded himself not to call his nine year old sister too often. He wasn't really a family guy, anyway.

The flowers in Gardenia's front yard gave off an overpowering scent, and Volkner coughed as he remembered that was how the Grass-type gym leader liked it. He took the sidewalk all the way to her front door, and knocked twice.

Exactly two seconds later, Gardenia swung the door open with a smile. "Volkner! Long time, no see!" She threw her arms around his neck, couldn't help but think how sweet she smelled.

_Like raspberries, with a hint of lavender…_ he thought. _Wait, how would I know what they smell like?_

"Nice to see you too…" He muttered. When Gardenia let go of him, he said, "I've got to get my tools in my truck."

Gardenia stepped back into the doorway. "Okay, I'll be inside."

As Volkner returned to his truck, he tried to think about everything he needed to repair Gardenia's fan, and not the way she smelled.

_Screw driver, voltage tester, needle nose pliers…_ Along with some special tools, he grabbed his general repair kit and walked back inside.

Volkner usually didn't admire houses, but he had to admit that Gardenia's fit her personality very well. Just as it was on the front lawn, she had potted plants scattered all around her foyer and living room. The walls were a deep evergreen, and they were lined with pictures of Gardenia's family and friends (including a photo of Volkner, which he himself didn't even know had been taken, much less was hung on her wall). The main color of the furniture in her living room was beige, which contrasted well with the hardwood floor. Gardenia's twenty-five inch television was mounted on her wall opposite the couch, and Volkner decided right away that her home was very comfortable.

"You like it?" Gardenia entered from the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. "I've remodeled it since the last time you visited, can't you tell?" She offered him a glass.

He gladly accepted. "Yeah, it looks great." Thirsty, Volkner quickly gulped down the lemonade, and Gardenia grinned.

Volkner studied her. She definitely looked more comfortable at home, since she had changed from her normal green cloak and cut-off shorts to a green hoodie and gray sweatpants. Gardenia's short, bronze hair was pulled into a tiny ponytail, and couldn't help but smile when she gave way to a yawn. "Sorry," she apologized. "I'm pretty tired. Three challengers today at the gym."

"That's a lot," Volkner mused. "Did you win them all?"

Gardenia shook her head. "I won the first two, but lost the last. It was so close, too! But I bet you don't wanna hear about them, you're here to fix the ceiling fan."

"N-n-no, no, that's okay, the fan can wait," Volkner stuttered. "Tell me about the battles." He was suddenly transfixed by the sound of her voice, and he noticed that even though she looked exhausted and was wearing sweats, she still looked very attractive.

_What am I thinking?_ Volkner wondered_. I'm here to fix her ceiling fan, not listen to her stories and marvel at the way she looks…_ But before he could stop himself, Gardenia had launched into a tale of her gym battles.

Almost two hours and several glasses of lemonade later, Volkner and Gardenia were sitting on her living room couch, talking and laughing and enjoying themselves. Caught up in Gardenia's tales, Volkner had lost track of time and had completely forgotten about repairing the fan. They were just starting to talk about their own Pokémon journeys when Gardenia looked at her clock. "Oh my God, it's already ten-thirty!" She looked apologetically at Volkner. "I'm so sorry- and we forgot about the fan!"

But Volkner just laughed. "It's okay, really," he said. "Don't worry about it. I had a great time talking with you." His eyes sparkled.

He wasn't even aware of how close the two of them had gotten on the couch. Volkner had one hand on Gardenia's leg, and he pulled it away awkwardly. "Sorry," he muttered.

But Gardenia said, "No, it's okay…"

Volkner found himself staring into Gardenia's huge amber eyes. His heart started beating faster and faster, and he slowly leaned in toward her. They were almost completely touching until Gardenia pulled away. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. Distressed, she looked at Volkner. "I'm, um, I'm going to go take a shower, okay? Maybe you can, uh, try and fix the fan?"

Embarrassed, Volkner murmured, "Yeah, sure, I'll see what I can do." So he wouldn't have to look at Gardenia anymore, the blond-haired gym leader hastily got up from the couch and made his way to the foyer to find his tool box. Gardenia slowly rose up from the couch, and walked to her bedroom.

When she was out of sight, Volkner sighed. He didn't mean to make it awkward, but he had. _Why did she pull away? _He thought. Picking up his needle nose plier, he said to himself, "And I don't even know what's wrong with the stupid fan."

Suddenly, Volkner heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. He looked up to see Gardenia dressed in a green bathrobe, cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Uh, Volkner?" She asked.

Stifiling a laugh at how cute she looked, he replied, "Yeah?"

"I don't really know how to say this, but… I think the shower's broken." She bit her bottom lip and tried not to giggle.

Volkner glanced at watch. "Hmmm… that _is_ a problem. And it's ten thirty-three… sort of late, isn't it?" He moved a bit closer toward her.

Gardenia murmured, "Yeah…" Then she brightened. "Why don't you just spend the night on my couch?" She inched forward just a bit, until she and Volkner were just centimeters apart.

Volkner squirmed with anticipation, and he could smell her scent of raspberries and lavender. "And you're okay with that?"

Smiling, Gardenia replied, "More than okay." Leaning forward and bravely clasping Volkner's face with her hands, she placed her lips on top of his.

It was slow, something that Volkner would cherish for a very long time. He wrapped his arms around Gardenia and deepened the kiss, inhaling the wonderful raspberries and lavender smell. Finally, when they were both in desperate need of air, they broke apart and smiled at each other.

Volkner whispered in her ear, "Are you sure you didn't break your shower on purpose?" He stroked her beautiful bronze hair.

Giggling, Gardenia replied, "You'll never know."

Volkner said, "I don't think I've ever been so glad to work on a Sunday."

"And I don't think I've ever been so glad to break my most useful appliances."

"I love the smell of raspberries and lavender…"

"What?" Gardenia asked, confused.

"Never mind."

**VGVGVGVGVGVGVGVGVGVGVG**

**Ahh... I do love the smell of raspberries and lavender :) and the prospect of a good crack fic. Like I mentioned in the previous chapter, I'm open to any and all ideas you throw at me either in a PM or review! Thanks!**

**-GGDeimos**


	3. Desk Work

**Saturn and Mars**

_I hate desk work. I hate desk work. I hate desk work. I hate desk work._

Commander Saturn of Team Galactic sighed. He knew he should be out in the field, not in the Veilstone City Headquarters doing… desk work.

He respected (and feared) Master Cyrus too much to actually ask him why he was stuck with desk work, but all the same Saturn couldn't help but wonder why he was assigned to such a mediocre task.

_Not only is it desk work,_ Saturn thought, _it's grunt work! I shouldn't be doing this. I'm a Commander._

He felt as if he were in elementary school again, sitting silently at his desk working out math problems and answering vocabulary questions. And for Saturn, those were the most boring years of his young life. The reason why he joined Team Galactic was so he could go out with his fellow commanders, raiding cities and towns, and stealing little children's Pokémon, not be stuck doing… desk work.

Generally, Saturn came off as a very staid and self-restrained person, but no one really knew he was quite the opposite. Impulsive and impetuous, he craved adventure. Now, sitting here in a desk, Saturn felt upset and boxed in, like he had done something wrong.

Not only was he depressed about being held in the HQ, Saturn was growing restless. Tapping his pen on the file he was supposed to be sorting through, he drummed out his own catchy rhythm.

_Dun dun… dun dun dun… dun… dun dun… dun dun dun… ping._

"S-s-Sir?"

Saturn gazed up slowly and stared into the eyes of a team grunt standing in his office doorway, holding a file in his hands. "What do you want?" He growled at him.

The grunt stepped into the room quickly, swallowed nervously, and stuttered, "C-c-Commander S-Saturn." Bowing his head in respect, uniform bowl cut swishing on his head, he handed the file to Saturn. "From M-m-Master Cyrus, s-sir."

Saturn cautiously peered into the folder, but not before muttering, "You are dismissed. Get out."

The grunt couldn't escape fast enough, and Saturn was glad. Nervously, he wondered what was so important about the manila file that the boss-man couldn't tell him in person. What Saturn found inside surprised him, since instead of a usual check-list, graph, and command, he found a hand written note. _Odd for Master Cyrus,_ Saturn thought.

_Saturn,_

_Need to free up space, we have a new batch of grunts coming in later this afternoon. I have decided to use Mars's office as a training space, so as of fifteen-hundred today, she will be moving into your quarters. This will probably be a permanent arrangement._

_Don't forget to let one of the grunts know to pick up my suit at the Jubilife Cleaners, either._

_-Cyrus_

Saturn's eyes grew wide, and he frantically pushed up the sleeve of his uniform to check out the time.

_Two fifty-eight? That's means she'll be here-_

"Saturn."

The blue-haired commander averted his gaze from his watch to the red-head that stood in his doorway, clutching a box of personal belongings. Not waiting for a reply, Commander Mars swiftly glided into the office and snapped her fingers. Instantly, three grunts carried in a small oak-colored desk and a swivel chair.

"Move," she told Saturn briskly.

Still in shock that he was getting an office-mate, Saturn quickly pushed back his chair and slid his desk to the left side of the room. He watched silently and with his arms crossed as the grunts settled her desk next to his own. It was considerable smaller than his, but Mars had a considerable larger chair. Even as the grunts exited the room, Saturn was still speechless. When he finally got his tongue back, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Without looking up from setting her stuff on her desk, she replied, "Orders."

"But… why?"

Huffing, Mars said, "Either you're extremely incompetent, or you aren't too excited at the prospect of sharing your office." She ran a hand through her short hair and added, "Trust me; I'm not totally thrilled, either."

"Well, err, make yourself at home, I guess." The room was silent once again as Mars shuffled around, arranging and rearranging items on her desk. Before he could make a fool of himself, he quickly sat down and returned to what he was doing before… desk work.

_Our attempt to harness the Floaroma Town wind work's power was unsuccessful, _he wrote._ We were defeated by a ten year-old native of Twinleaf Town who owned a Chimchar and a Starly. _

_Oh, my God- that sounds awful,_ Saturn thought_. I wasn't even the commander in charge… come to think of it, it was Mars._ He stared pointedly at his new red-haired office mate. Holding out the form, he said, "Shouldn't you be writing this?"

Mars took one look at the paper and scoffed. "Desk work?" She taunted. "Looks like Master Cyrus found something suitable for you, after all."

Shifting angrily in his chair, he remembered why he and Mars never worked together. "At least I wasn't beaten by…" he glanced at his paper, "… a Chimchar and a Starly." Saturn smirked.

"At least I was in the field!"

"At least my Pokémon can hold its own against a ten-year old child!"

"At least Master Cyrus trusts me enough to correct my mistakes!" Mars screeched.

"At least… this is pointless," Saturn muttered. He tried to return to writing his report.

"Hmmph," said Mars arrogantly. "Good thinking." She turned back to her desk.

_Yes, Commander Mars was beaten by a ten-year old _CHILD_, and she fled from the wind works without even stealing anything, which violates Master Cyrus's Regulation number forty-four: never leave a work scene without taking something valuable. So, maybe Commander Mars should be evicted from her position as an Administrative Commander, and the spot can be given to a worthy grunt Team Galactic can name Neptune-_

Saturn broke off his furious scribbling, pencil lead dull with effort. Suddenly curious, he leaned over slowly and unnoticibly toward Mars's desk to see what she was working on, but the red-haired commander caught him in the act.

"What are you doing?" She asked Saturn in annoyance.

"The real question is, what are _you_ doing?" Saturn replied smugly.

Cheeks turning pink, Mars tried to cover up the sheet she was writing on with her hand, and muttered, "Erm, writing a letter to my sister."

"Two things: First, I could write you up for violating Regulation number twenty-six- you may not use Team Galactic's supplies for your personal use, and second, you don't have a sister- I read your file." Saturn couldn't tell if Mars's red face was from the fact that he had caught her in a lie, or that he had accessed her personal file. "So, care to tell me what you're working on?"

Mars muttered, "That's classified information given out on a need-to-know basis only."

Spontaneously, Saturn leaped out of his chair and launched himself at his office-mate's desk. Before Mars could react, the blue-haired commander grabbed the paper off of her desk with a triumphant smile. Holding one hand against Mars as she struggled for the paper, Saturn read what Mars had been working on.

_Wednesday, September First:__ Vegetable Minestrone Soup, Cucumber Salad, Grilled Chicken Caesar Wraps  
__Thursday, September Second: __Mediterranean Hummus Wraps, Power Pitas, Fresh Cut Fruit-_

"Mars," Saturn said, in an attempt not to laugh. "You're working on Team Galactic's _September lunch menu?_"

If Mars's cheeks could have been a darker shade of red, Saturn wouldn't have been able to tell where her hair started. "I said, it was classified."

"So, you got stuck with desk work, huh?" Saturn asked with a grin.

"…Yes," Mars admitted. She put a cool hand on her cheek in an attempt to calm herself down.

Sighing, Saturn said with a goofy grin, "Then I'm glad you're here to experience the pain with me."

**SMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSM**

**Hey everyone! I'd like to give a huge THANK YOU to my reviewer, rgooch, for being not only a helpful tip giver, but for also being a loyal and wonderful friend. As I've been mentioning in previous chapters, please submit any ideas you have in a review! Thanks!**

**-GGDeimos**


	4. KISS

According to the one and only Misty Waterflower, being a freshman was not so hot.

And anyone who has been at the bottom of the chain can most definitely agree that that this could be considered one of the worst years of your life.

The majority of the upperclassmen either glare at you or treat you like you're invisible. And if you're lucky, it's the latter. But once upon an unlucky freshman, you get mercilessly picked on by numerous specimen such as the jocks, the partiers, the druggies, and the occasional sluts.

And your life is turned into a living hell.

Being invisible isn't all that great, though. Sure, it has its perks of not being toppled into a garbage can at lunch, or slipping unnoticeably by that cute junior guy you've got your eye on (if you're a girl or gay guy, anyway). But what about the time you just want someone to look at you, reassure you that you're actually a human being?

Then again, that doesn't happen all too often.

For Misty Waterflower, the invisible lifestyle was the one for her. She preferred to slink along the walls of Cerulean High unidentified, unnoticed.

But that's slightly challenging when you're the baby sibling of the Sensational Sisters- senior Daisy, junior Violet, and sophomore Lily.

Sure, Misty could live a life full of popularity. Instead of only noticing her as the "teeny Sensation" (Misty swore she would personally murder the kid who came up with that stupid name), people could actually recognize her for something more important, like her work at the Pokémon shelter, or her poetry entries published (anonymously) in the school newspaper.

Of course, that's not how high school works, and Misty knew that. Everyone knows that school sucks, period. This is, unless you're at the top of the pyramid.

"May Maple?"

The girl flipped her long brown hair and giggled. "Present!"

Misty gagged. _Dumb whore_, she thought to herself. She watched in absolute disgust as the brunette freshman leaned over to the desk in front of her and dangled a pink note for her boyfriend, Drew. He flipped his green hair and picked the note up between his fingers. Reading it with a goofy grin, he scribbled out his reply, something Misty couldn't decipher on the college rule paper.

_His hair looks like cabbage, and he smells like one too,_ Misty thought.

Fifth period Literature and Composition- possibly class you could have before lunch. Misty sighed and tapped her pencil on her oak wood desk and listened as her teacher, Mrs. Lawson, call the remaining students off the role.

"Dawn Newman?"

"Here," the navy-haired girl seated in front of Misty responded.

"Barry Rathford?"

"Yo."

Misty tried not to glare, but failed.

"And… Zoey Waters?"

Misty rolled her eyes as the spiky red head answered Mrs. Lawson. "Sinnoh transfers," she muttered. "Go to your own region's high school. Kanto doesn't want you."

The class proceeded as usual, with Misty writing away in her notebook about some topic not relevant to what they were learning about (the significance of the classic novel_ Fahrenheit 451_). Misty didn't care. She didn't need to take notes, and she didn't study for tests. So she passed the time writing meaningless poetry.

_Ocean, ocean  
Deep and wide.  
Ocean, ocean  
far and high.  
Waves come to the ocean  
to play with the sand  
But they also come to the ocean  
to play with the land._

Misty scowled and crumpled up the paper. _What the hell? Play with the sand?_ Frustrated, she carelessly tossed the ball into the recycling bin.

Even though PMS was slightly part of the problem today, Misty knew that she had been pretty bitter lately. Stealing a glance three desks down at the infamous, scantily-clad May, she couldn't help but think how May had it all. Except for more clothing, but that was her choice.

_Money, popular friends… a boyfriend._

_A boyfriend._

Sighing inwardly, Misty ran through one of her mottos in her mind. _If you think you need a boyfriend, then you're not ready for one._ But as she gazed out Mrs. Lawson's classroom window, Misty spotted a wave of black hair and a famous red hat that could only belong to a certain junior.

_Ash Ketchum!_ Misty tried to scold herself as she squealed inwardly, but she just couldn't do it. She knew she sounded like one of those ridiculous fan girls who obsessed over guys like Ash. Misty felt herself almost drooling at the sight of the junior quarterback of the Cerulean Sharpedos football team, and as Ash flipped his hair out of his eyes (something that Drew also did, but that was more of a nuisance to Misty), she knew that she had a problem.

Ketchum Infatuation Suppressing Syndrome, or KISS for short.

Almost every single girl at Cerulean High had been diagnosed with KISS- something that the majority of them wanted, but Misty was a part of the small percentage who felt it was an incurable curse.

The red-haired freshman ran through the symptoms in her head. _Thinking about the said someone, butterflies in the stomach, eating less, falling asleep at night dreaming about him…_

And Misty had experienced all of them.

She didn't know why she was so attracted to Ash; it just felt… natural.

But she didn't want to be like the other girls, who constantly worried about their clothes, hair, what they ate, how much they worked out (though this wasn't a problem for Misty), and how much money went into things like makeup, shoes, purses, and accessories. It was too bothersome to Misty, and she wondered why girls could stand to fret over such nonsense.

"Misty! Miss Waterflower!"

To Misty's embarrassment, Mrs. Lawson was standing over her desk with a heated expression. _Crap. Why don't I even listen with one ear?_ "Uh, yes, did you ask me something?"

Sighing, Mrs. Lawson answered, "Miss Waterflower, I asked you to explain the difference between a utopian society and a dystopian society in detail, and why you think neither could ever work out- two times, actually."

Misty scowled when May snickered at her from across the room, and she drummed her fingernails on her desk to keep from lashing out. "Oh, yes ma'am, I'm sorry. The difference is that-"

"In a utopian society, everyone is perfect and accepted, and people who don't meet their standards are thrown away like trash. Like Misty, for example. But in a dystopian society, everyone does whatever they want to with no rules, regulations, or punishments. Again, like Misty." May smiled pleasantly at Mrs. Lawson. Shocked, Misty tried to hide her enraged expression, but couldn't help shooting daggers through her eyes at May's gaze.

Frowning, Mrs. Lawson said curtly, "I appreciate your input and opinion, Miss Maple, but I directed the question at Miss Waterflower over here."

Venom seeped into the grin on her face, but May continued to sugarcoat her tone of voice. "I'm sorry. I thought this was open for discussion." She shot a triumphant look towards Misty, who narrowed her eyes with hatred. A thousand curse words bubbled up and threatened to come out of Misty, but she reminded herself that she could get another detention hall session, which would not settle well with her parents.

_How dare she? Who does she think she is? May Maple… if fate doesn't take you out of my life, I'll kill you myself._

Everyone held their breath as they waited anxiously for the bell to ring, feeling awkward by the stare down between Misty and May. Drew glanced nervously between the two girls, as if not knowing what to say.

_Brrring!_

"Okay, class, finish the section of _The Hearth and the Salamander_ in _Fahrenheit 451_. Be prepared to discuss Captain Beatty's monologue on the digression of reading materials over time." Mrs. Lawson craned her head to stare pointedly at Misty.

_Why can't she just say 'books' like everyone else?_ Frustrated and disgusted, Misty gathered her books and stomped out of the classroom and towards the lunchroom.

She sat by some other freshman girls in the cafeteria hall, but she rarely every spoke to them. As soon as she spotted Ash grabbing a chicken wrap from the sandwich bar, Misty's heart did tiny acrobatic flips in her chest. He made his way through the drink station quickly and poured some sweet tea into a Styrofoam cup, and bumped knuckles with some other football jocks. She couldn't help but think about how cute he looked as he sat down, dipping his chicken wrap into some ketchup.

_Okay, this KISS is getting too serious. And a chicken wrap dipped in ketchup? That's nasty._ Misty rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop staring at Ash from across the room.

Duplica, the girl sitting adjacent to Misty, leaned over and whispered, "Oooh, looks like somebody's got the KISS."

Misty just shrugged and turned away to eat her hot dog, but Duplica went on, saying, "Yeah, I think he's pretty hot, too. Just look at the way he flexes his muscles when he stirs his drink. That's some kind of sexy."

Glaring, Misty tried to concentrate on her lunch, but Serena chimed in. "Mmmhmm… wait, what's he doing? He's got a little sheet of paper…"

Somewhat interested, Misty glanced over at Ash, who had moved to sit next to May and Drew. The tiny butterflies that had once flown around her heart suddenly became like stone, and sunk to the bottom of her chest. It wasn't shocking, really; since May and Drew were together, and Drew was on the football team, it was expected that they would sit together.

But that piece of paper looked familiar- Misty was puzzled as May shook it in his face, a grim smirk on her features. Ash only sat there, looking uncomfortable.

As if in slow motion, May's eyes met Misty's, and Misty realized what May was holding.

_Oh my God- she's showing Ash the lame ocean poem I wrote during Lit and Comp- no. No. NO! That is so elementary school! May must have picked it out of the trash after class._

Panicking, Misty spotted her junior sister Violet parading down the lunchroom with a group of friends. Her expression of laughter changed to annoyance when she saw Misty wildly flagging her down.

"What do you want, pest?" Violet greeted Misty, and sat down across from her. Duplica and Serena gasped, surprised at being graced by a Sensational Sister's presence.

"Vi, you're close to Ash, right?"

"By close, you mean we make out every day after seventh period behind the football field bleachers? I guess that's close enough."

_Gross. Gross. Gross._ "Yeah, umm, that's close. Would you mind snatching that little paper out of his hands and bringing it back to me?"

Violet smiled, and Misty knew what was coming next. "What's in it for me?" She leaned back and fixed her little sister with an innocent gaze.

"I'll do your AP Biology homework for two weeks." How Violet was taking an advance placement course, Misty would never know.

"Make it three."

"Two and a half."

"Four or nothing."

Misty groaned. Like she didn't already have enough to do. She looked over at Ash's table and saw that he had slipped the paper underneath his binder, and to Misty's embarrassment, he was laughing with May and Drew.

"Okay, okay, four weeks. Please, just do it!"

"Whatevs." Violet stood up and skipped over to Ash's table flirtatiously. Misty watched in disgust as her older sister giggled with Ash, May, and Drew, but no one saw her snatch the paper away from them. Violet made her way back to the freshmen table.

"You owe me, pest. I can see for myself you've got the KISS. It's like a Glameow sprayed the entire lunchroom- everyone can smell it, and it's so gross." Violet flipped her indigo hair and strode away, leaving the note between Misty's fingers.

Misty groaned and put her head on the table. It really didn't matter that she had gotten the poem back- Ash had already seen it, read it, and laughed at it, anyway. If he didn't know Misty had existed, he was surely aware now. Misty peeked through her crossed arms to where Ash was sitting, and she found that he was staring at her.

Suddenly feeling hot beneath her skin, Misty quickly packed up her books and scurried out of the cafeteria.

The bell had rung once again, and Misty slammed her locker angrily. She was so embarrassed Ash had read the poem, but the damage was done- she would just have to move on.

_It sounds easier than it actually is…_

"Hey, you're Misty, right?"

_It couldn't be…_

But as she turned around, the junior quarterback for the Cerulean High Sharpedos was only inches away from breathing down her neck. Misty could hardly speak; Ash had never been this close to her before. Her KISS was flaring up. "Uh, yeah, yeah, I am."

"I read your poem at lunch today, and I don't know why you threw it away- I mean, I thought it was really awesome! Ya know, the ocean's blue and everything, and I liked the part about the waves… it was cool, really cool."

_Wait, what?_ "Oh, thanks, that's, uh, sweet."

"Yeah, it was a lot simpler than other poems I had to read in other classes- that's why I liked yours the best. It was better than all the rest. Hey, look, I rhymed! Maybe I could be a poet, just like you!" Ash exclaimed.

Misty stood frozen on the spot, confused and tongue-tied, but she managed to choke out, "Thanks, thanks Ash. Uh, I got to go to World History…" Feeling nervous, she dashed off down the stairs, leaving Ash alone in the corridor.

The rest of the school day flew by quickly to Misty, as she couldn't get her mind off of Ash's so called compliments. When she finally arrived home, she launched herself on her bed, and began to write another poem, but she was rudely interrupted ten minutes later when Violet hurled a large book at her.

"What? What is that?" Misty kicked the book to the floor.

"My AP Bio book, pest. Better get started; I've got a test review to turn in tomorrow."

Misty looked through the giant packet in disbelief; it had to contain at least fifteen pages of study questions. "How long did your teacher give you to do this?"

"A month." Violet smirked and opened the door to leave.

"Vi?" Misty asked before her older sister had completely disappeared.

Violet stuck her head around the doorway. "What?"

"What's Ash like, you know, when you're not making out with him?"

"He's as dumb as a pole."

"I figured that much."

"So, you've gotten over your disease? The KISS, I mean?" To Misty's surprise, Violet actually wore a caring expression.

"I guess so," Misty shrugged.

Violet chuckled. "See you, pest. By the way, my teacher's checking that assignment for accuracy." She ducked around the corner.

Misty raised her eyebrows, but she wasn't ready to start on the review packet. She turned back to her book of poems, and began to scribble out a single thought on her mind.

_Why do I always fall for the stupid-is-as-stupid-does kind of guys?_

Chuckling, Misty began to write an entire poem on Ash Ketchum and her KISS.

And this time, she'd have to tear it into shreds before shooting it into the recycling bin. May Maple would never get her hands on another poem written by Misty ever again.

**MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA**

**i think that at least once in their lives, every girl is plagued with the KISS. At least, girls in the anime! There's not a lot to say about this chapter... but I'm already half-way through another one and should be updating shortly.**

**-GGDeimos**


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